Chapter 823: Antidote

Chapter 823: The Antidote

Such words were slick, the kind that would delight someone who harbored affection for you but disgust someone who felt nothing—never to be spoken lightly without a certain closeness... Piaomiao couldn’t tell if Zhao Changhe truly meant to say them or if it was the influence of his demonic possession; if the latter, she couldn’t very well lose her temper over it.

She had fallen into demonic madness, shattered his bones, nearly caused his death in that place, and he hadn’t uttered a single complaint... Now that he was possessed, he only spoke a few words...

What was infuriating was that it didn’t even feel all that disgusting.

Piaomiao, seething, tossed Zhao Changhe onto the guest courtyard bed, grabbed a rope, and bound him tightly: “For safety’s sake, don’t move.”

Zhao Changhe couldn’t resist and had to let her tie him up, though he found it somewhat amusing. If he truly wanted to do something, what could an ordinary rope like this restrain?

Once he was thoroughly bound, Zhao Changhe sighed: “Let alone the fact that I’m still injured now, even at my peak, I’m no match for you. What exactly are you afraid of?”

Piaomiao: “...”

She didn’t know what she was afraid of either. After a moment’s thought, she sneered: “Who was it that said, once safe, they’d discipline me? Look who’s disciplining whom now.”

Zhao Changhe couldn’t help but laugh: “Fine, you’re going to discipline me, are you? Go ahead, show me a trick.”

Seeing him lying there as if waiting to be disciplined, Piaomiao ground her teeth, then suddenly walked to the head of the bed, standing behind his head. She sealed his spiritual sense with a finger, clapped her hands, and said: “Didn’t you say you couldn’t help but look? Now you can’t see, see how that pisses you off.”

“And this is your discipline?” Zhao Changhe fell silent.

Piaomiao stood there for a few breaths, then suddenly felt as if she were still being scrutinized, the gaze growing even more brazen, scanning her up and down.

How could this feeling arise? Did he have eyes on the top of his head?

Piaomiao punched him on the head, furious: “Stop looking! If you keep it up, I’ll—”

“Gouge out my eyes?”

“I’ll go kill those monks outside!”

“Don’t...” Zhao Changhe sighed: “You held back when you instinctively struck back at them earlier, which shows your innate kindness. If you truly kill innocents, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life once you come to your senses.”

Piaomiao opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped.

Zhao Changhe’s expectations of her were indeed a mistaken hope... Once possessed by the demon, one could no longer be swayed by good thoughts—that wouldn’t be a demon at all. It was just that the overwhelming rage from the initial possession had been largely vented through his brutal beating of Mara, leaving him less irritable than at the start, more rational...

The real reason she held back was that, rationally, she knew if she killed the monks, they couldn’t help purify Zhao Changhe’s demonic thoughts.

Whether it was because she needed Zhao Changhe to deal with Night Nameless, or for some other reason, the sole cause was Zhao Changhe himself... She couldn’t say that, or Zhao Changhe would surely get cocky. Now, influenced by his desires, he was less rational, every word a tease.

Sure enough, Zhao Changhe’s next words came: “Where’s your discipline?”

Piaomiao’s fists clenched with audible cracks.

“Speaking of which, why did you bring me to the guest courtyard?” Zhao Changhe said. “The monks said they’ve suppressed my heart demon, and once I fulfill my desire, it will be resolved. Are you suggesting I satisfy that longing?”

What was the heart demon triggered this time?

It was the desire lured out by Mara’s incarnation of Piaomiao.

According to the monks’ theory, all Zhao Changhe needed to do was bed Piaomiao, and it would be over. Was bringing him to the guest courtyard truly for that?

Piaomiao sneered: “You wish. Since they’ve already suppressed your heart demon, I can try to see if I can completely dispel it by some means.”

“How?”

“Open your spiritual platform and let me take a look inside.”

Zhao Changhe closed his eyes, signaling his consent.

Piaomiao pressed a finger to Zhao Changhe’s brow, her spirit plunging directly into his spiritual platform.

Unlike Zhao Changhe’s wives, who had experienced his sea of consciousness multiple times through dual cultivation, this was Piaomiao’s first time seeing it. Amidst a vast starry sky, someone lay with their head pillowed on the sun and moon, reclining leisurely above the Milky Way. The night sky was filled with stars encircling them, the forms of the Four Symbols clearly visible. Below lay endless mountains and rivers, with ethereal energy veins drifting.

Piaomiao stared in a daze for a long while, never imagining that anyone could gather all these meanings together, including even herself.

She wasn’t even his person... He relied on the true essence of mountains and rivers, reflecting and walking the same path with her.

Piaomiao was silent for a moment, then drifted to Zhao Changhe’s side. She could see that his spirit was tinged with pink, trembling slightly, clearly consumed by desire. But it was surrounded by a golden Buddhist light, keeping the situation under control.

The golden scriptures coiled around him like bindings, his spirit similarly restrained and unable to move, staring at her with fixed eyes.

She could fully sense that without the suppression of these golden scriptures, Zhao Changhe would have lost all reason and lunged at her madly... But now his gaze was still clear, though slightly clouded, proving the Buddhist methods were effective.

“What are you looking at?” Piaomiao examined him for a long time, then repeated the same line.

Zhao Changhe said: “This is your usual appearance. It feels a bit unfamiliar, not like when you used Yangyang’s face, all fierce but cute... Let me look more, to deepen the memory.”

“Are you sick?”

“Yes, the heart demon hasn’t faded, so of course I’m sick—gravely ill.” Zhao Changhe smiled. “Actually, this version of you is different from what I saw in ancient times. Back then, you were distant and ethereal, like a water goddess flickering in and out of view. Now, your expression is fierce, looking like trouble.”

“You and your water!” Piaomiao blurted out, immediately regretting it.

But Zhao Changhe didn’t pick up on the bath topic as she expected. Instead, he said: “Actually, you look beautiful like this too.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I know. I’m saying things I’d never dare to say for the sake of decorum on a normal day. But whether said or not, they’re the truth.”

“...” Piaomiao couldn’t describe the feeling of being teased at every turn, nor the sensation of a madman confessing to a demon.

When I was detached and kind, you threatened me with harsh words. Now that you’re possessed, you’re confessing—are you just a glutton for punishment?

Then Zhao Changhe said: “Sometimes I feel this half-possessed state isn’t without its benefits. It seems to make people less hypocritical... Things I wouldn’t dare admit to myself on a normal day, I can now openly express.”

Piaomiao finally couldn’t help but ask: “So you find a twisted, hideous demon beautiful? As long as it’s female, you’re not picky?”

“What misunderstanding do you have of yourself? At first, you were a bit twisted, but not anymore. When you use Yangyang’s face, you just seem fierce but cute; in your own form, you’re a domineering woman with murderous eyes... When you meet Vermilion Bird later, you can ask her if I’m particularly fond of that type.”

Piaomiao flew into a rage, conjuring a whip in her hand and lashing it viciously: “Full of lies! ‘Particularly fond’? You talk about disciplining me while being gentle with Yangyang—which one do you really like? I hate liars like you the most!”

Zhao Changhe grunted in pain but was actually smiling: “You... are... actually jealous.”

Piaomiao’s hair seemed to turn to smoke in fury as she struck again: “Don’t think that just because I won’t kill you, I have no other way to teach you a lesson! Can’t I beat you?”

Zhao Changhe’s spirit curled up in pain, unable to speak.

Piaomiao raised the whip, but the third strike wouldn’t fall.

The memory of him carrying her on his back, fleeing for their lives, flashed through her mind again—countless times he twisted his body to shield her, taking blows on his own chest.

A man of such iron will, who could endure flaying himself for healing without a sound, shouldn’t be curled up like this.

Not killing him might not only be because she needed him to deal with Night Nameless... but because she truly couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Wanting to kill him might not only be out of hatred for being seen through... Could it be jealousy? In some human stories, killing out of jealousy was common. Now, with demonic madness amplifying her ferocity, she might actually do such a thing.

But Piaomiao couldn’t tell.

“Mara and you both think my expectations of you are mistaken... but I’ve always believed otherwise,” Zhao Changhe said softly. “Your demonization is just hatred dominating your nature, causing you to extend that hatred to other lives—perhaps that’s evil. But you still have reason; you haven’t become an uncommunicable madman, nor has Mara taken over your thoughts to become his avatar.”

Piaomiao said: “Of course. With the strength of my spirit, how could I become a madman? And how could Mara be worthy of dominating my thoughts?”

Zhao Changhe slowly continued: “Since you’re still rational, why assume that someone who can hate cannot love? I even think that you, with your hatred, are more capable of emotion than the desireless Piaomiao of ancient times.”

Meaning, you’re easier to win over now.

Piaomiao couldn’t imagine anyone daring to think such thoughts, but when she traced the logic, it didn’t seem flawed.

She didn’t even dare to continue the conversation, afraid of how muddled her mind might become.

Piaomiao, who had claimed to enter his spiritual platform to find a solution, fled from Zhao Changhe’s sea of consciousness like a fugitive. When she returned to Cui Yuanyang’s body, she found Cui Yuanyang awake, staring at her with wide eyes.

Piaomiao’s heart was in turmoil: “What are you looking at? Aren’t you afraid I’ll devour you now?”

Cui Yuanyang stared at her for a long moment, then broke into a radiant smile: "In your current state, you could swallow me whole and it wouldn't matter."

"Why?"

"Because then I'd just be following Brother Zhao in a different form."

"Are you two both insane!" Piaomiao's chest heaved with fury as she snapped, "Enough nonsense—take over the body."

Cui Yuanyang asked in surprise, "Why?"

"When Mara stirs his desires, though it originates from Piaomiao, the image used is yours, Cui Yuanyang's. If you two consummate your marriage, it should mostly resolve it!"

Cui Yuanyang's eyes widened: "This is the solution a Triple-Realm cultivator came up with? Hey, hey, don't fall asleep!"

Before she finished speaking, Cui Yuanyang found herself in control of the body as Piaomiao willingly sank into slumber.

Cui Yuanyang scratched her head, noticing that this demonized Piaomiao, aside from her temper, was increasingly resembling the normal Piaomiao.

Perhaps Zhao Changhe's judgment was the most correct... Piaomiao's cultivation was too strong, far surpassing Mara's. The heart demon Mara evoked couldn't overwrite her nature; it only made her existing hatred more pronounced and extreme, and after venting, it faded considerably, unable to dominate her. On the contrary, the more her hatred was stirred, the more likely it might give rise to affection—the seven emotions and six desires are intertwined.

In truth, after the last dream incident, the normal Piaomiao had refused to keep deceiving herself, but the demonized Piaomiao was still willing... Cui Yuanyang was almost certain this sister had developed feelings for Brother Zhao, just not deeply enough—if she were, she wouldn't need to hide in slumber; she'd take matters into her own hands...

Cui Yuanyang didn't bother overthinking it. Since feelings had stirred, sinking deeper was only a matter of time. What needed more attention now was Brother Zhao's condition. Damn Piaomiao—with all those wounds on Brother Zhao, she hadn't thought to tend to him, only to lash out.

Cui Yuanyang sniffled, sat on the edge of the bed, untied Zhao Changhe's ropes, and took out the Cui family's medicinal salve from her ring to apply to him: "You get hurt every time—didn't I tell you not to push so hard anymore..."

Seeing it was Cui Yuanyang, Zhao Changhe felt joy: "You're awake?"

"Mm... Sister Piaomiao was demonized; the pressure of that demonic energy was too much to bear, and I fainted not long after."

"I know. I went in to check earlier... I'm at a loss in this situation too. We'll have to find a way to separate them." Zhao Changhe sighed: "When did you wake up?"

"A while ago. I heard you confessing to Sister Piaomiao." Cui Yuanyang grinned: "Her demonic intent has faded a lot now. So love is the antidote to hate?"

Feeling like he'd been caught cheating by his wife, Zhao Changhe was mortified: "I was stirred by a heart demon. I shouldn't have spoken like that, but facing her, I couldn't help it—all sorts of nonsense came out... If the masters hadn't helped suppress it, I might have done something terribly embarrassing."

"It's actually a good thing... I think this is much better than your earlier desire to kill her. Even if we can't separate them later, sharing a body won't be as awkward." Cui Yuanyang laughed: "Did you know? Before you ever met Sister Piaomiao, she already admired you greatly. From the moment you entered the Hanchi Ice Abyss, I saw her staring at your image, utterly captivated, several times."

Zhao Changhe was taken aback: "No way?"

"Maybe because she shares so many of my memories, she naturally feels different toward you... Besides, everything she represents aligns perfectly with you. She's naturally drawn to you—for a deity, that's not love, but if there's any affection, it can only be for you." Cui Yuanyang winked: "So even after the heart demon is gone, you can keep talking to her like that. She actually likes hearing it."

"If she likes it, why did she whip me?"

"Hehe... one day you'll whip her back with your own whip, as many times as you like."

"You little minx. Is she asleep again, that you dare speak like this?"

"Yes, she told me to be your antidote, to cure your heart demon..." Cui Yuanyang leaned down and kissed him: "I don't think it'll work, but we have to try... You've been pent up too long; you need to let it out..."

Zhao Changhe truly couldn't hold back anymore. With Piaomiao, he had to suppress himself, but with his own wife, it was only natural. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms and they tumbled together.

As it turned out, making love with his wife did ease the stirred desires, but it wasn't a true cure.

After all, the heart demon was triggered by Piaomiao. As the ancient Buddha said, "Let him have the woman he desires"—that referred to Piaomiao, not to his long-married wife Cui Yuanyang.

Even with an identical face, knowing in his heart it wasn't her meant the heart demon remained.

Cui Yuanyang clung to her husband's neck, weathering the storm for a while. Seeing his eyes still blazing red, she bit her lower lip and a plan came to mind.

The heart demon lies only in the mind, not in reality. If she could make him believe he had truly obtained her, wouldn't that work?

Suddenly, Zhao Changhe noticed that the coy, yielding Yangyang's expression changed—it became furious, and her slender hands pushed desperately at his shoulders: "Zhao Changhe! What are you doing!"

Zhao Changhe jolted in fright, nearly losing control right then.

So, in the middle of it, Piaomiao had suddenly emerged?

Did that mean he was now bedding Piaomiao? Should he stop?